For Hope, Glory, and Love
by florgurl
Summary: Eowyn's diary through the events of LotR:TTT and LotR:RotK and beyond. I'm sticking as close to the books as I can, but I am adding and taking away a few things here and there. No major changes, slash, or Mary Sue. Enjoy! R
1. Introduction

*Author's Note*

I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor its characters.  However I have a great love for Tolkien and his works.  The following story is the Diary of Eowyn, starting February 27, 3019.

*Prologue*

"…When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel.  Or it was maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, better-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die…"

--Aragorn in "The Return of the King"


	2. February 27, 3019

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1February 27, 3019

Today  Eomer set out.  He took a the Rohirrim to pursue some orcs rumored to be heading this way.  I begged him to let me join them.  He refused.  Am I forever to stay here and care for my uncle?  He has great need of someone to care for him, yet he will accept no help.  Only the help of Wormtongue.  I hate the creature.  His eyes following my every step.  His toxic tongue constantly hissing lies in my uncle's ears.  My king's ears.  Piece by piece he destroys our once strong and noble kingdom of Rohan.  Day by day he accomplishes his goal.  I have often heard  Eomer say he believes Wormtongue is in allegiance more with Saruman then our uncle.  I would not doubt it.  The creature is evil.  The sooner we rid ourselves of it, the sooner we can reclaim Rohan.  The sooner Rohan is reclaimed, the sooner it will be restored to it's high and noble glory of old.  Will that ever happen?  Will my eyes live to see Rohan as it once was?  My heart longs for the day I can once again see honor, truth, and beauty in this country, in place of all the present deceit, lies, and destruction.  I fear the day will never come.

 Eowyn


	3. February 28, 3019

February 28, 3019

Love.  My heart's one desire is love.  To have someone to love.  To be loved by someone.  My yearning grows stronger every day.  To be held in someone's arms.  To be cared for.  Confusion swells over me from all directions.  I try to find a light, a place of shelter, but only find more darkness, my life shrinking in around me.  Alone.  When will my dreams be fulfilled?  Some nights I dream of a man, tall he is, like one from Gondor.  I wonder who he is.  I fell he is real, for the dreams are real unlike any I have ever had.  Yet I feel I am to live my life forever in misery.  Ignored.  Unable to stand up for what I believe in.  Unable to fight to protect those I love.  I will fade.  Simply live till I exist no more.  Then the darkness will overtake me in the night.  I will vanish.  The evanescence of my live will be complete.

And I will be no more.

Eowyn


	4. February 29, 3019

February 29, 3019

At sunrise this morning a terror took over me.  I suddenly woke in a cold sweat and knew something was wrong.  The terror lingered for an hour or so.  Then a bittersweet jot replaced the terror.  I then knew the Rohirrim had been successful in there search, had fought and been victorious, though with much loss.

I pray they return soon for my uncle is faring worse.  He had aged so quickly.  Much to quickly.  His strength has left him.  He no longer cares for the fate of Rohan.  He seems to care for nothing.  I know not what overtakes him, perhaps some sickness I know not of.  I must watch him fade.  I must watch him slowly depart.  Slowly the lies of Wormtongue creep over him.  He comes to trust Wormtongue more and more every day.  He once ruled the throne with pride and splendor.  A great king of much honor and glory.  Now he unknowingly lets Wormtongue rule through him.  His own power diminishes while Wormtongue's rises.

Rohan needs a savior.  One who will come and restore us.  One who will overcome the lies and treachery that have beset upon us and replace it with the truth and honesty that once reigned.  One who will throw out the cowardice and renew the bravery.  One who will revive our strength and glory.

If there is one out there, I pray he comes quickly.

Eowyn


	5. February 30, 3019

February 30, 3019[1]

I dreamed of the one from Gondor last night.  I do not remember much of the dream though I do remember that he wrapped his arms around me and said:

"Yet I will wed with the White Lady of Rohan, if it be her will.  And if she will, then let us cross the River and in happier days let us dwell in fair Ithilien and there make a garden.  All things will grow there, if the White Lady comes."[2]

I then awoke.

When I awake, I can never remember his face.  I only remember he has a very Gondorian look to him.  If he is real, if he comes, how am I to recognize him if I do not know his face?

Perhaps he may be the one to restore Gondor.  Perhaps he will arrive and help us to overcome the evil that everyday grows stronger in our land.

Perhaps my mind dreams too much.  Longing for what it cannot have.  The chances of anything as wonderful as I dream happening are very unlikely.  Evil is spreading and no one seems to know what to do.

Eowyn

[1] Please note that the Middle Earth calendar is different from ours.  February had thirty days in it every year.

[2] "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" Book 6, Chapter 5, "The Steward and the King".


	6. March 1, 3019

March 1, 3019

No word yet of the Rohirrim's return.  I doubt they will return soon for they are not welcomed by the King.  Or rather, Wormtongue through the King.  The set out four days ago to hunt a band of orcs rumored to be heading this way.  A band of orcs Wormtongue convinced my uncle were not coming.  My uncle, of course, believed him and refused to grant the Rohirrim permission to chase after them.  They left against his will.

Had my uncle been in his right mind he would have let them go.  Most likely he would have gone with them.  But his mind is not his own.  It is Wormtongue's to control.

I cry out in the night mourning for that which is not yet dead.  My life constantly fading.  There is little now that will bring me joy.

Eowyn  


	7. March 2, 3019

*AUTHOR'S NOTE*  

~*~ The majority of the dialogue in this chapter in directly from "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers", book 3, chapter 6, "The King of the Golden Hall".  However some has been changed added or left out.  Other notes will be made as needed. ~*~ 

March 2, 3019

Today has been wonderful!  And amazing thing has taken place!  I hope my heart is ever full of the joy that has filled it today.

It started this morning.  A wizard, an elf, and dwarf, and a man arrived.  When news reached of their arrival, Wormtongue, through my uncle, ordered the door guards take all their weapons away from them.  He also specifically noted the take the wizard's staff.  The wizard arrived with his staff anyway.  I stood behind my uncle's throne as they approached.  Silence fell across the hall.  After a time, the wizard spoke.

"Hail Theoden son of Thengel!"  He cried, "I have returned.  For behold! the storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed."

Return?  Storm?  I had little time to wonder at the meaning of his words for then my uncle rose, leaning on his own staff.  I gasped.  The elf heard and looked my way.

"I greet you, and maybe you look for welcome," My uncle said.  Even his voice is tired and aged beyond his years.  "But truth to tell your welcome is doubtful here, Master Gandalf.  You have ever been a herald of woe.  Troubles follow you like crows, and ever the oftener the worse.  I will not deceive you: when I heard that Shadowfax had come back riderless, I rejoiced at the return of the horse, but still more at the lack of the rider; and when Eomer brought the tidings that you had gone at last to your long home, I did not mourn.  But news from afar is seldom sooth.  Here you come again!  And with you come evils worse than before, as might be expected.  Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?  Tell me that."

Confusion reeled through my mind.  What all did I not know?

My uncle sat back down.

The wizard spoke again.  "The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden son of Thengel.  Has not the messenger from your gate reported the names of my companions?  Seldom has any lord of Rohan received three such guests.  Weapons they have laid at your door that are worth many a mortal man, even the mightiest.  Grey is their raiment, for the Elves clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of great perils into your hall."

I wondered at who these strangers could be.  I had not seen any of them before, nor heard of them, save the wizard.  I then remembered the events of the previous September.  Around the end of the month Gandalf the Gray had arrived.  My uncle did not appreciate it very much and had sent him away with the words "Take any horse, only be gone ere tomorrow is old!" [1]  My uncle had become even angrier when he discovered the wizard had taken Shadowfax, the best of our horses.

Then the wizard suddenly changed.  He took off his tattered gray cloak and cast it aside.  Underneath he wore a garment of a dazzling white, a white unlike any I had ever seen, almost blinding to behold.  He leaned no longer upon his staff, but held it high over his head.  When he spoke his voice became clear and cold.

"Grima son of Galmod," He said to Wormtongue, "A witless worm you have become therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth."

He raised his staff higher and a clap of thunder rolled.  I've often heard the wrath of a wizard is not something to be aroused, but I never imagined this.  The sunlight left, and a midnight fell over the hall.  The fire in the hearth became naught but a dim glow.  I looked around in amazement   Suddenly out of the dark came Wormtongue's voice, sounding weak, worried, and scared,  "Did I not counsel you to take the wizard's staff?  That fool, Hama, has betrayed us!"

A flash of light came and in the flash I could see the face of the guard Hama, looking as if he wasn't sure whether or not he should have taken the staff from the wizard.  A dead silence fell over the hall.

"Now Theoden son of Thengel, will you hearken to me?  Do you ask for help?"  The wizard's voice rang through out the hall.  He raised his staff toward a window and through the window a patch of light shone.  "Not all is dark.  Take courage, Lord of the Mark; for better help you will not find.  No counsel have I to give to those that despair.  Yet counsel I could give, and worse I could speak to you.  Will you hear them?  They are not for all ears.  I bid you come out before your doors and look abroad.  Too long have you sat in the shadows and trusted to twisted tales and crooked promptings."

Slowly my uncle now rose to stand.  Slowly light once again grew in the hall.  I reached out to take my uncle's elbow and help him to stand and walk across the room.  The strangers walked with us.  When we reached the doors the wizard knocked on them with his staff.  "Open!" He cried, "The Lord of the Mark comes forth!"

Tears filled my eyes as the doors opened and he stood in the fresh air, a cool, clear, wind blowing.  He began to look younger.

"Send your guards down to the stair's foot," the wizard said, and then turned to me, "And you, lady, leave him a while with me.  I will care for him."

I smiled at him in gratitude and then turned to my uncle.

"Go, Eowyn, sister-daughter!" My uncle said, the first words he had said to me in a long time.  "The time for fear is past."

A kind smile crept across his face.  I felt the tears run down my cheeks and I smiled back.

As I walked back into the hall I turned for one quick look.  At that time I fully noticed the man.  Gondorian.  As I looked at him, he turned and our eyes met.  I felt a great power was in him and I paused, standing still for a second or two.  I also felt a great wisdom in him.  Then quickly I turned and walked away.

As I turned I caught a look at Wormtongue.  A look of great fear was on his face.  If such a look in on Wormtongue's face, a wonderful thing will soon take place.

As I walked to my room my thoughts were once again on the man.  Could it finally be him?  Could he be the one I have been dreaming about?  I am unable to keep up with the thoughts and questions that race through my mind.

Eomer ahs also returned with the Rohirrim today.  He hugged me and greeted me briefly before meeting with our uncle and the strangers. 

Today has been long, yet such a day as I wouldn't have dreamed of.  Perhaps tomorrow holds great things as well.

Eowyn

[1]  "The Lord of the Rings", Appendix B, September 20, 3018

*ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE*

~*~ I know that this is not all that happened to Eowyn on this day, but the chapter was already quite long and I needed to go ahead and end it.  The rest of this day will be incorporated into the next day's entry.  Thanks for reading this. ~*~


	8. March 3, 3019

*AUTHOR'S NOTE*

~*~ Yes, I know yesterday's entry was very long.  Doubt I'll have anymore that long again. ~*~

March 3, 3019

The events of yesterday still dwell in my every thought.  Wormtongue was given the choice to remain here, or go to his other master at Isengard.  The wretched creature ran toward Isengard without hesitating when the choice was brought before him. I am glad we will no longer have to put up with his lies and deceit.

The Rohirrim set out again yesterday in pursuit of Saruman, with our king Theoden at the lead.  The four guests also set out with them.  As custom goes, I brought wine to fare them well before leaving.

"Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour.  Health be with thee at thy going and coming."  I said, handing first my uncle the cup.  After he drank of it I handed it to each of our guests in turn.  Lastly Aragorn.

As I handed him the cup I looked into his eyes, very deep and dark, full of life and wisdom, they were.  He smiled at me and took the cup.  Our hands briefly touched.  I trembled at the feel of his hand.

"Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!"  I said.

"Hail Lady of Rohan!"  He replied.

The smile was gone from his face and a troubled look was now beset upon it.  I wondered what could be the cause of this.

I have been chosen to act as lord to the Eorlingas while they are gone.  Should neither my uncle nor my brother return, then their Lady I am to remain.  At least in this way my strength, love, and dedication to my people can be seen.

"Farwell sister-daughter!  Dark is the hour, yet maybe we shall return to the Golden Hall.  But in Dunharrow the people may long defend themselves, and if the battle go ill, thither will come all who escape."  My uncle said before departing.

"Speak not so!" I replied, "A year shall I endure for every day that passes until you return."  I found myself looking at Aragorn when I said this.

"The king shall come again," He said.  "Fear not!  Not West but East does our doom await us."

And with these words, they left.

Far over the plain I saw the glitter of their spears, as I stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house. *

Eowyn  

* I know, that's almost right out of The Two Towers, replace the "I"s with "she"s and you will have exactly what Tolkien wrote.  I just found it to be a very powerful line and had to use it.


	9. March 5, 3019

March 5, 3019

I wish even more now that I had been allowed to go with the Rohirrim.  A messenger, Hengest [1], arrived today bearing the news that our men had been victorious in a battle.  The Battle of Helm's Deep.

Hengest reported that on the way to Isengard a rider approached the host.  Not recognizing Theoden King the scout hurriedly asked for Eomer.  My uncle revealed himself, much to the surprise and joy of the scout.  The scout then reported that all had gone ill since Eomer departed.  Saruman had mustered and army of orcs and wild men, and had emptied Isengard of it.  This army, the Uruk-hai they are called, had killed many of the men protecting the western regions of Rohan, near Isengard [2].  He said the riders with Theoden King would be better off returning to Edoras.

However, according to Hengest, during this time Gandalf the White had ridden a few yards ahead of the host and stopped.  He sat there, still as stone, staring towards the west.  He then suddenly turned around, and rode quickly back crying "Ride Theoden!  Ride to Helm's Deep!  Go not to the Fords of Isen, and do not tarry in the plain!  I must leave you for a while.  Shadowfax must bear me now on a swift errand.  Keep well the Lord of the Mark, till I return.  Await me at Helm's Gate!  Farewell!" [3]

He then galloped off, telling no one of his destination.

Hengest said my uncle took Gandalf's advice and turned his course southward to Helm's Deep.  On the way, though, they were attacked by a group of orcs and wargs.  They triumphed, but not with out loss.  They reached Helm's Deep by nightfall, knowing most likely Saruman would put up a fight there as well.

They were correct.  Hengest said that past midnight there were attacked by an army of thousands of the Uruk-hai.  He said they fought until dawn, their numbers growing fewer and the Uruk-hai seeming only to multiply.  They fought on until dawn.  Then, as the sun began to rise, they saw Gandalf return with an army of Erkenbrand of Westfold and a large number of his men.  Gandalf raised his staff high over his head and a white light like no other shone across the land.  The orcs turned, and the men of Rohan looked out over the plains.

Here Hengest stopped.

"Hengest?" I asked, "Hengest, what happened."

"The trees, lady, the trees." Was his reply.     

"Trees?  Hengest, what trees?  Helm's Deep is in a vale!" 

"Lady Eowyn, we looked out and there had grown a forest overnight!  The Uruk-hai ran to it for protection, and they never came out."

"A forest?" I asked confused.

"Yes, lady, a forest."

I took a moment to ponder these words.  Entire forests do not just grow overnight.  But I suppose many different things can happen, whether they seen possible or not.  The events of the past few days have taught me that.  I decided to move on.

"Does the king send word of what he plans to do next?"  I asked.

"He plans to ride with a few to Isengard, the rest he sends to Dunharrow, where he has decided to muster the troops of Rohan.  He wishes thee meet him there."

"When?"

"He makes plans to arrive on the ninth."

"Thank you Hengest.  Wilt thou ride to Dunharrow now, or ride with me?"

"I am to arrive with thee, lady."

"Then I will have a room prepared for thee in Meduseld."

I wish I could have gone with them.  I wish I could have fought alongside them in battle and earned glory and respect in a way I cannot have because I am a woman.  Not that I resent being a woman, but that I wish there were not so many limitations.  There are many women who are strong.  Many who can fight for what we believe in and those we love just as well as a man.  But will we ever be able to?  Will it ever be acceptable for a woman to stand up for what she believes in?  I hope so.  And I hope I will have a part in making it acceptable.

Eowyn

[1] Hengest is a character I created for this story.  I took the name from Beowulf.  Seems fitting to choose a Boewulfian name as how Tolkien based Rohan on Beowulf. Yes I am 14, and yes I have read Beowulf.    

[2] I couldn't find a specific place in the book.  I looked at a map and saw that Isengard was near western Rohan.  If this is incorrect, please notify me in a review please! : )

[3] "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers" book 3, chapter 6, "Helm's Deep"

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* 

~ This Chapter ends the Two Towers part of the story!  But the story is not over!  I still have Return of the King and beyond to cover!  I plan to go to the wedding of Eowyn and Faramir, though I'll have to pick a date, as Tolkien never specified one.

Also, I went back through and read this on ff.n and realized I had made quite a few mistakes I was in a hurry yesterday and wasn't paying very much attention.  Sorry.  So I went ahead and revised it and replaced it with the revised edition (oooh, that sounds so…professional!  Eeee!)

Also I know that I'm not exactly following the book here, I needed something to do.  Don't worry, it will all be back to book with her next entry!

Thank you all for reading this far!~

~*~flor~*~


	10. March 6, 3019

*AUTHOR'S NOTE*

~ Most of the dialogue in this chapter is from  "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" book 5, chapter 2 "The Passing of the Grey Company".  My own additions will be marked with asterisks (*).

I had quite a bit of trouble getting the first paragraph to work out and I still don't like it.  But, it's the best I could do, and I couldn't find any other way to get in the information.

This chapter is longer than chapter seven, which I though would be my longest.  I guess not.  I won't say that this will be my longest chapter, because I may prove myself wrong once again later on! : )

Also, many thanks to those of you who have reviewed!  I love reading what you have to say about my story! ~

March 6, 3019 

Aragorn has returned today, along with a small host of others.  The Dunedain they are called, a host of thirty men and two elves.  Elladan and Elrohir are the elves, brothers, the sons of the Lord Elrond of Rivendell.  Also, the elf Legolas and the dwarf Gimli have returned with them.

At supper tonight Aragorn recounted the Battle of Helm's Deep.  Hearing him tell the tale was quite different from hearing Hengest tell it.  Aragorn told it in the fashion of a warrior, one who knows the art and craft of war and is wise in dealing with it.  He told the tale with excitement, his voice rising and falling with the climaxes and calms.  I delighted in hearing his words and the way his voice handled the words coming from his mouth.  He told me of how my uncle had led a charge against the enemy.  My heart rejoiced at these words, for not week ago such a thing would have seemed impossible.

When the tales were told, the food eaten and the night late, I was tired and ready to get some sleep.  "Lords," I said as I stood up, "You are weary and shall not go to your beds with such ease as can be contrived in haste.  But tomorrow fairer housing shall be found for you."

But Aragorn then replied, "Nay, lady, be not troubled for us!  If we may lie here tonight and break our fast tomorrow, it will be enough.  For I ride on an errand most urgent, and with the first light of morning we must go."

At these words I smiled, "Then it is kindly done, lord, to ride so many miles out of your way to bring tidings to me, and to speak with me in my exile" [1]

"Indeed no man would count such a journey wasted," he replied, "And yet, lady, I could not have come hither, if it were not that the road which I take leads me to Dunharrow."

* "Then I am to come with you.  The messenger Hengest arrived yesterday bearing the word from my uncle Theoden that I am to ride to Dunharrow to meet him for the muster of his army."

"Nay, lady," he replied, "You are not to ride with me for your uncle and I ride to Dunharrow with different intentions in mind.  I ride out to Dunharrow tomorrow, you are to arrive on the eighth."

My heart sank at these words.  I had hoped Aragorn and his host would ride with us, fight with us.  We are in need of warriors with their strength and renown.

"My lord, what is you purpose in Dunharrow?" I asked. * 

"There is a road out of this valley, and that road I shall take.  Tomorrow I shall ride by the Paths of the Dead."

A long silence fell over the hall.  My mind raced as it went over the words he had just said.  The Paths of the Dead?  They had that name for a reason.  None who have entered have ever come back alive.  He would die!  The entire host would die!  What cause was leading him to this suicide?

I finally spoke, "But Aragorn, is it then you errand to seek death?  For that is all you will find on that road.  They do not suffer the living to pass."

"They may suffer me to pass," he replied, "But at the least I will adventure it.  No other road will serve."

"But this is madness!" the words were pouring from me faster than ever before, "For here are men of renown and prowess, whom you should not take into the shadows, but should lead to war, where men are needed.  I beg you to remain and ride with my brother; for then all our hearts will be gladdened, and out hope will be brighter."

I could feel my face get hot as the blood rushed to it.  My voice had risen considerably, though I was not yelling.

He looked my straight in the eye and replied gravely, "It is not madness, lady, for I go on a path appointed.  But those who follow me do so of their free will; and it the wish now to remain and ride with the Rohirrim, the may do so.  But I shall take the Paths of the Dead, alone, if needs be."

No more was said after that.  At length they each arose, thanking me for the meal, and went to their rest.  As Aragorn turned to leave, I called out to him.  He turned and came to where I was.

"Aragorn," I said, "Why will you go on this deadly road?"

"Because I must," he replied, "Only so can I see and hop of doing my part in the war against Sauron.  I do not choose paths of peril, Eowyn.  Were I to go where my heart dwells, far in the North I would now be wandering in the fair valley of Rivendell."

Rivendell?  Then he lived with the elves.  He must be a man of special kind, for never before have I heard of elves granting a human to stay with them.

To even my surprise, I found myself laying my hand on his arm.  He looked into my eyes, and I into his.

"You are a stern lord, and resolute," I said, once again calm, "And thus do men win renown." I paused here, searching for the words with which to make my request, "Lord," I began, "If you must go, then let me ride in you following.  For I am weary of skulking in the hills, and wish to face peril and battle."

"Your duty is with you people," he said.

All the calm I had collected before left me.  How could he answer me like this?  Could he not see how desperate I was to get out of Edoras?  Away from all my cares and "duties".  My tongue loosened and I found myself crying out, "Too often have I heard of duty!  But am I not of the house of Eorl, a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse?  I have waited on faltering feet long enough.  Since they falter no longer, it seems, may I not now spend my life as I will?" 

He remained calm.  How could he remain so calm?  Here before him was the unheard of.  A woman, near-yelling her soul out to a man she barely knew.  Or perhaps he found it humorous?  No.  One look in his eyes let me know he was taking my words seriously.

"Few may do that with honor," he said "But as for you lady: did you not accept the charge to govern the people until their lord's return?  If you had not been chosen, then some marshal or captain would have been set in the same place, and he could not ride away from his charge, were he weary of it or no."

"Shall I always be chosen?"  The words coming out of my mouth sounded bitter, even to me, "Shall I always be left behind when the Riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?"

"A time may come soon when none will return.  Then there will be need of your valor without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defense of your homes.  Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised."

"All you words are to say: you are a woman and your part is in the house.  But when the men have died in battle and honor, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.  But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman.  I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain of death."

I was calm again, but my words were stern and my voice firm.  He was taking me seriously, but he doubted my strength and dedication.  Was he scared that I would turn and flee at the first infliction of pain?

"What do you fear, lady?" he asked.

"A cage," I replied, my voice hard and cold, "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire."

"And yet you counseled me not to adventure on the road that I had chosen, because it is perilous?"

From any other person, speaking with any different tone of voice, those words would have been mockery.  But he spoke them genuinely.

"So one may counsel another," I replied, "Yet I do not bid you flee from peril, but to ride to battle where your sword may win renown and victory.  I would not see a thing that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."

"Nor would I," he said, "Therefore I say to you lady: Stay!  For you have no errand in the South."

"Neither have those others who go with thee.  They go only because they will not be parted from thee – because they love thee."

And with those words, the last I have spoken tonight, I turned and walked back to my room.

Now, recalling the conversation, I marvel at how forward I was.  It has been a long time since I have been that open with someone.  A long time since I have trusted so much of myself with another.

I am a woman, and proudly so.  But for that I should not be looked down upon.  My strength and dedication should not be underestimated.  I am willing to go to the ends of the earth to prove my worth.  I have not given up, no, not now, not ever.  I will prove my worth.  How and when, I know not.  It will be soon though.  It will be soon.

Eowyn

[1] In the book, it is "Eowyn" and "her" instead of "me" and "my".  I just really did not like the whole first person thing.  It gets on my nerves.  Sorry JRRT.


	11. March 7,3019

*AUTHOR'S NOTE*  

~ Once again, all the dialogue has been taken from "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" book 5, chapter 2 "The Passing of the Grey Company." ~

March 7, 3019

I tried once again to convince Aragorn to let me ride with the host.  I once again failed.

I awoke before dawn this morning and dressed myself as a rider, with a sword at my side.  I fixed a cup of wine and, when dawn broke, brought it out to the edge of the city where the host was preparing to leave.  I also went to make my last plea to Aragorn.  When I reached them I took a drink from the cup, then handed it to Aragorn.  He drank from it also and then spoke.

"Farewell, Lady of Rohan," he said, "I drink to the fortunes of your House, and of you, and of all your people.  Say to your brother: beyond the shadows we may meet again!"

I began to cry at his words.  Here was a great man, brave, honest and like no other, riding to his death.  Why?  I had asked myself this question many times.  Why?  What was he hoping to find at the Paths of the Dead?  I wanted to know.  I wanted to ride with him and find out.  I wanted to gain the same glory he would if he lived to tell the tale of passing through the Paths of the Dead.

"But Aragorn, wilt thou go?" I asked, hoping I had mistaken his words from the night before, yet at the same time, knowing I had heard him perfectly.

"I will," he replied.

"Then wilt thou not let me ride with this company as I have asked?"

"I will not, lady," he said, "For that I could not grant without the leave of the king and of your brother; and they will not return until tomorrow.  But I count now every hour, indeed every minute.  Farewell!"

"I beg thee!" I cried, falling to my knees.

"Nay, lady," he said.  He took my hand and raised me to stand up.  He then kissed my hand.  He may as well have kissed my mouth, for the feel of his lips on my skin traveled to my mouth and my lips trembled.  They trembled in a way that it seemed they were searching for his lips to be able to kiss them back.  But his lips were not there.  He had already climbed onto his horse and turned to leave with the host.

I stood still, my hands clenched at my side, until the riders disappeared.  Then, alone, I walked down empty streets to the hall, Meduseld.

Alone in my room I now sit.  Why is he taking the Paths of the Dead?  Why won't he let me go with him?  If he knows he is riding to his own death, why is he going?  I would rather have the honor of dying by his side than stay here.  For Edoras has nothing to offer me.  If I die here, it will be the death of an old woman, whom age or sickness has consumed.  If I die in war or peril, it will be a glorious death, a death that will earn me honor and respect.  I would rather die with honor and respect.

Eowyn

*A/N*

~ It took me a while to figure out how I was going to write this part of the book.  I hope you all like it, especially Aeredhel (btw…when I typed this in Microsoft Word, it had "Aeredhel" as a misspelled word.  When I looked to see the options for what the "correct spelling" could possibly be, the first suggestion was "earache".  I found that funny)!

Thank you all for reading this!  Please review!

Much love to you all,

~*~flor~*~


	12. March 9, 3019

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Sorry I've taken so long to update.  I've been grounded and really busy all at the same time.  Not a good combination when you're writing a story.  But, here it is…Chapter 12!

Also, I've reread some of what I wrote earlier and realized it's a bit more contradictory to Tolkien than what I wanted so I've changed a few things in previous chapters.

~*~flor~*~

March 9, 3019

I rode out to Dunharrow today, not in pursuit of Aragorn, but to meet my uncle.  With me rode a small army of men from Edoras.  My uncle intends to muster his troops here and ride out and fight against the armies from Isengard attacking us in the East.

I reached Dunharrow before my uncle.  Most of my time was spent helping set up tents for the men meeting here.  My uncle hopes to gather thousands meet here to ride to the East.  I hope to go with them.

When the time seemed right, I rode out from Dunharrow in the direction I knew my uncle would be coming from to meet him and to talk with him.

"Hail, lord of the Mark!" I cried as I reached him, "My heart is glad at your returning."

"And you, Eowyn," he replied, "is all well with you?"

"All is well," I answered. "All is well.  Your lodgings have been prepared for you: for I have had full tidings of your coming."

"So Aragorn has come them," my brother said, "Is he still here?"

"No, he is gone," I replied quietly.  I found myself looking south towards the mountains as I said this.

"Whither did he go?" Eomer asked.

"I do not know," I lied.  "He came at night, and rode away yestermorn ere the sun had climbed over the mountaintops.  He is gone."

My voice must have told more how I felt than I intended for it to, for my uncle's next words were: "You are grieved, daughter.  What has happened?  Tell me, did he speak of that road?  Of the Paths of the Dead?"

"Yes, lord," I said, "And he has passed in to the shadow from which none have returned.  I could not dissuade him.  He is gone."

"Then our paths are sundered," said Eomer, "He is lost.  We must ride without him, and out hope dwindles."

We slowly and quietly rode to Dunharrow in the falling dusk.  When we reached our destination, I showed my uncle and his host to their lodgings.  I noticed that among them was a child.  I wondered at the reason and went to approach him.  But when I neared him I realized that he was not a child for his face appeared older, though not much more aged then mine.*  I decided to ask my brother about him. Eomer told me that he was a holbytla, a halfling by the name of Meriadoc, often called Merry for short.  I had thought halflings were only creatures of ancient myths and legends.  I never thought they existed.  I realized now how wrong I had been.

I met in my uncle's tent with my uncle, brother, Dunhere, lord of Harrowdale, and the halfling.  I answered the questions they asked me of Aragorn's visit.  I listened to them tell the halfling of the Paths and why we fear them so greatly.  Their conversation then turned to the war.  I talked little, but listened intently.  After a while the captain of the Guard entered the tent.

"A man is here, lord," he said to my uncle. "An errand-rider of Gondor.  He wishes to come before you at once."

"Let him come," my uncle replied.

A man entered, wearing the pride and armor of one from Gondor.  With him he carried a black arrow with the point painted red.  He sank on one knee and presented the arrow to my uncle.

"Hail, Lord of the Rohirrim, friend of Gondor!" he said, "Hirgon I am, errand-rider of Denethor, who bring you the token of war.  Gondor is in great need.  Often the Rohirrim have aided us, but now the Lord Denethor asks for all your strength and all you speed, lest Gondor fall at last."

They spoke of the war, of the despair of Gondor and the time it would take to gather Rohan's scattered army.  My uncle estimated it would take near a week.  The messenger did not look satisfied.  They spoke longer, the rest of us quiet, listening with open ears.

At last my uncle arose, the rest of us did the same.  "Go now each to your rest," he said, "and sleep well."  And with those words, he dismissed us.

We ride to Gondor as soon as possible, with as many men as we can gather.  Messengers have been sent bearing word to haste in the gathering of the army.

I will ride with them.  I will ride whether they want me to or not.  I am destined for more then they will allow me.  I will go through any extremes to gain higher honor and respect.  I will ride.

Eowyn.

* Eowyn was 24, Merry was 37, remember, hobbits age slower than humans do.  


	13. March 10, 3019

March 10, 3019

The sun did not rise today, or perhaps it did and under this shadow we could not see it.  The shadow has come from Mordor and hides all light.  The air itself is brown, there are no colors, and nothing has a shadow of its own.  The shadow began to set upon us at sunset yesterday.  I fear it will last until both Mordor and Isengard are defeated, if they are defeated.

Some are saying there is no hope for us.  They are saying our numbers are too few to stand against Mordor and Isengard.  As much as I would like to ignore these words, I must admit I see the truth in them.  Our hundreds are nothing to the tens of thousands of Mordor and Isengard.  Gondor has suffered many more raids and assaults then we have, and its armies are tired and weakening.

Another meeting was held in my uncle's tent.  For a while we all sat silent.  Then my uncle spoke, "So we come to it in the end," he said, "The great battle of our time, in which many things shall pass away.  But at least there is no longer need for hiding.  We will ride the straight way and the open road with all our speed.  The muster shall begin at once, and wait for none that tarry.  Have you good store in Minas Tirith?  For if we ride now in all haste, the we must ride light, with but mail and water enough to last us into battle."

"We have very great store long prepared," answered Hirgon.  "Ride now as light and swift as you may!"

"Then call the heralds, Eomer," my uncle said, "Let the Riders be marshalled!"

My brother left, and soon we heard the trumpet ring, and the trumpets of the camps below answered.

My uncle the addressed the halfling, "I am going to war, Master Meriadoc," he said, "In a little while I shall take the road.  I release you from my service, but not from my friendship.  You shall abide here, and if you wish, you shall serve the Lady Eowyn, who will govern the folk in the stead."

The halfling was not pleased with these words.  "But, but, lord," he replied with a shaking voice, "I offered you my sword.  I do not want to be parted from you like this, Theoden King.  And as all my friends have gone to battle, I should be ashamed to stay behind."

"But we ride horses tall and swift," my uncle said, "and great though you heart be, you cannot ride on such beasts."

"Then tie me on the back of one, or let me hang on a stirrup, or something," his voice grew eager, and I began to see myself in him.  "It is a long way to run; but run I shall, if I cannot ride, even it I wear my feet off and arrive weeks too late."

My uncle smiled, "Rather than that I would bear you with me on Snowmane.  But at least you shall ride with me to Edoras and look on Meduseld; for that way I shall go.  So far Stybba can bear you: the great race will not begin till we reach the plains."

I could take it no longer.  He should be allowed to ride!  His heart is in the right place, though his height my not be much.  His heart is what counts.  If he is willing to ride and face danger and peril, let him.  He is brave and his abilities should not be determined by his height, just as one's abilities should not be determined by their gender.  Our numbers are few enough, we should be taking all those willing to ride, despite age, height, or gender.

I stood up.  "Come now Meriadoc!" I said, "I will show you the gear that I have prepared for you.  This request only did Aragorn make to me, that you should be armed for battle.  I have granted it as I could.  For my heart tells me you will need such gear in the end."

We left the tent and I led him to a booth among the tents of the guards.  I had the armorer bring out a helm, shield, and other items.

"No mail have we to fit you," I told him, "Nor any time for the forging of such a hauberk; but here is also a stout jerkin of leather, a blade, and a knife.  A sword you have."  

I handed him each item as I said the word, then presented him the small shield.  "Take all these things, and bear them to good fortune!  Farewell now, Master Meriadoc!  Yet maybe we will meet again, you and I."

He turned and left.

After my uncle bid me farewell, I went to my tent.  There I changed into the clothing and armor of a Rider, disguising all features one might recognize me by.  I saddled by horse, Wondfola, and seated myself on here.  I rode to join the Riders, praying I would not be recognized.  I saw Meriadoc, and for a few moments we looked one another in the eye.  I saw bravery and sadness in his eyes.  I had to do something.

It was early afternoon when preparations were finished, farewells all said, and we were ready to leave.  I saw Meriadoc once again trying to convince my uncle to let him ride.  My uncle would not allow it.  The halfling passed me as he unwillingly left, and I overheard him saying "_Where will wants not, a way opens: _so we say, and so I have found myself."

I bent down as close to him as I could from my steed and said quietly, "You wish to go whither the Lord of the Mark goes: I see it in your face."

"I do," he replied.

"Then you shall go with me," I said, "I will bear you before my, under my cloak until we are far afield, and this darkness is yet darker.  Such good will should not be denied.  Say no more to any man, but come!"

I reached down and lifted him into the saddle.  "Thank you indeed!" he said.  "Thank you, sir, though I do not know your name."

I smiled, for if he did not recognize me, I doubted anyone would.  "Do you not?" I replied, "Then call me Dernhelm."

And with that, the ride to Gondor began.

We are now camped twelve leagues East of Edoras.  I plan not to write until after the battle is over, if I am yet alive.  My writing greatens the chance of me being discovered.  If I am still alive, I will return to write more.  I will write of the battle, of the wins and losses. I will write of the journeys.  I will write of myself, of my pains and joys.  If fate wished it and I am to survive, I will write again.

Eowyn

***

No, this is not the end of the story!  And all the dialogue belongs to Tolkien, as with the last chapter.

Anyway…Please Review!

~*~flor~*~  


	14. May 1, 3019

*A/N* Once again, all the dialogue is Tolkien's, from "The Return of the King", the chapter "The Steward and the King".  I think I forgot to put this disclaimer on a couple of chapters, but all the dialogue in just about all the chapters is Tolkien's…except the chapter with Hengest…that dialogue was mine!  All mine, precious, yes…all mine!  Mwahahaha!!!!

*** 

May 1, 3019

So much has happened since last I wrote.  The war is over.  We have been victorious, and evil has fallen.  I am in Gondor now, earlier today the Lord Aragorn was crowned King Elessar.  I do not wish to be his queen anymore.  I still love him, but he will never be more than a dear friend to me.  He is to wed his love, an elf-maiden by the name of Arwen, on Mid-year's Day.  She is to arrive July 1, and I look forward to meeting her.

Instead, I realize that the one I truly love is Faramir, Steward and Captain of Gondor.  He loves me in return, loved me first, and we plan to marry later in the summer.  We were both wounded in the war and met in the Houses of Healing.  When we were both well enough we would often walk together through the gardens and along the walls of the Houses.  After a couple of weeks, though we went quite some time without seeing each other, for he had many matters to attend to.  During this time I received word from Eomer, asking me to join them at Cormallen.  I did not go.  Every day I would walk alone through the gardens, pondering the events of the past few months, remembering how I felt then, and realizing how much I have changed.  Faramir came to me one day and we went to stand on the walls, I had not been up there for a time.  Once there, he said, "Eowyn, why do you tarry here, and do not go to the rejoicing in Cormallen beyond Cair Andros, where your brother awaits you?"

"Do you not know?"  I replied.

He answered, "Two reasons there may be, but which is true, I do not know."

"I do not wish to play at riddles.  Speak plainer!"

"Then if you will have it so, lady, you do not go, because only your brother called for you, and to look on the Lord Aragorn, Elendil's heir, in his triumph would now bring you no joy.  Or because I do not go, and you desire still to be near me.  And maybe for both these reasons, and you yourself cannot choose between them.  Eowyn, do you not love me, or will you not?" 

I was taken aback by his words.  Had he really unearthed that much about me during our talks?  "I wished to be loved by another," I answered, "But I desire no man's pity."

"That I know," he replied, "You desired to have the love of the love of the Lord Aragorn.  Because he was high and puissant, and you wished to have renown and glory and to be lifted up far above the mean things that crawl on the earth.  And as a great captain may to a younger soldier he seemed to you admirable.  For so he is, a lord among men, the greatest that now is.  But when he gave you only understanding and pity, then you desired to have nothing, unless a brave death in battle.  Look at me, Eowyn!"

I lifted my eyes to meet his, and we looked at each other long and steadily.  Then he said, "Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Eowyn!  But I do not offer you my pity.  For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten; and you are a lady beautiful, I deem beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell.  And I love you.  Once I pitied your sorrow.  But now, were you sorrowless, with out fear or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you.  Eowyn, do you not love me?"

And I stood there, hearing these words, and I realized I did love him.  A change came over me and I was no longer sorrowful or afraid.  A joy entered me and I felt more alive than I ever had before.  And I said, "I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun, and behold! the Shadow has departed!  I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, not take joy only in the songs of slaying.  I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren."  I looked into his eyes again and smiled. "No longer do I desire to be a queen."

He smiled at me and laughed with such genuine bliss, as I had not heard for a long time.  "That is well," he said, "For I am not a king.  Yet I will wed the White Lady of Rohan, if it be her will.  And if she will, then let us cross the River and in happier days let us dwell in fair Ithilien and where make a garden.  All things will grow with joy there, if the White Lady comes."

I was then reminded of the dream I had in February.  Looking back through this diary I know his words were the exact words spoken to me in the dream.  I know this was no coincidence.  But I wasn't sure what I thought of it.  "Then must I leave my own people, man of Gondor?" I asked, "And would you have your proud folk say of you: 'There goes a lord who tamed a wild shieldmaiden of the North!  Was there no woman of the race of Númenor to choose?'"

"I would," he replied.  Then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.  Such delight I have never felt before!  I knew then that yes, I truly loved him.

And now, I am to wed him.

Other events have taken place that I am not yet ready to write about.  The memories are too horrible and sorrowful to recall at the moment.  I will write of them later.

Eowyn


End file.
